Icy, cold mess
by MsRiRy
Summary: One-shot; Sakura, Gaara, alcohol. Enough said. Oh, and Naruto in his boxers!


Trump the numbers! If you dwell near L-E on LJ, you'll know what I mean. Kudos to all who review; I haven't forgotten. Final chapter of Persuasion will be up soon; it's currently being proofread.

Standard Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Kishimoto. The legal, consenting, adult content & bad language does not; all hell people it's smut! Read at own risk.

* * *

The smell woke him first. A combined stench of dried sweat, booze, and a distinctive tang that lifted his conscious from its alcohol induced stupor. Extremely sensitive, he resorted to breathing through his mouth, coming fully awake when he detected the warm weight curled against his side. More disturbed than he's ever been in his whole 21 years, Gaara rushed to escape the bed. He tumbled backwards over the low footboard, not realizing how close to that end he rested. The comforter, pooled on the floor below, cushioned his fall. 

Confused, Gaara laid where he'd fallen. _What the fuck?!_ Why was he on the floor at the foot of his bed? ...Wait…Was this his bed? Was he even in his estate room? The furnishings looked familiar, of course, that could have been the hotels preference for all the rooms. He was certain no one else would have a gourd of sand in the corner and those did look like his books on the coffee table along side his pants. The red shirt covering the lamp next to an overturned leather recliner was not.

_Damn it!_ This was entirely all _the__i__r_ fault.

'Let's celebrate your birthday', Naruto had said. 'You only turn 21 once', Kankuro had added. Temari agreed to stay behind; Kankuro extremely relieved his elder sister understood his unspoken wish to indoctrinate their younger brother into the realm of manhood. It was going to be hard enough getting Gaara into the nudie bar. There was no way in hell he'd go with Temari at their side.

Gaara was not amused. He had snarled at every single one of those indecently clad women. Though they were paid to please men, he hadn't found them anymore stimulating than the village girls who threw themselves at his feet. So foregoing a rather bloody punishment, the addled brained twits resorted to plying him full of the best liquor the city had to offer. He doesn't know why he allowed it. Why he accepted congratulations from the other Konoha nins they encountered amongst the civilians. Why he willingly went along with them as they tripped from bar to bar, consuming enough to dampen common sense thus finding himself in his current situation.

The stranger in his bed shifted and the Kazekage prayed. 'Don't let it be a woman.' 'Don't let it be a--_**What**__** the **__**HELL**__** was he thinking?!!**_ _Please_. Be. A. Woman.

He peered from where he had fallen, seeking to catch his first glimpse of the unknown, person, occupying his bed. She turned, restless in her sleep, rolling so to face him. Her small, capable hands reached out to him, missing his warmth. Fine hands, made to heal, trained to pulverize. He didn't need to look any further than those two hands to know his partners identity. No need to trail his eyes across taunt feminine muscles overlay by smooth skin. He didn't have to find the beauty mark etched below her right hip; he'd licked it. He had licked more than that. That stubborn, proud chin, defiant even in the throes of rapture, plump lips which had breathlessly chanted his name, he remembered now. He remembered everything.

Her unexpected appearance was the reason why he hadn't argued with his brother. Why he hadn't just walked off, back to his hotel for a quiet night of reading. That damn glorious hair of hers had magnetized a majority of the men in their vicinity. He growled at quite a few of the braver souls, never admitting that he too was mesmerized by the pink hue and had been since childhood. She had sat beside him, babbling about nothing; most likely it was the drinks that made her comfortable enough to converse with him. He would like to believe it was his company, though he was never much of a talker, especially when she looked at him with those luminous green eyes. Or giggled at something one of their idiotic friends had done then, he quickly lost his train of thought. Her mouth on his had been more intoxicating than any amount of liquor could imbue. He sucked in a breath as the blanket fell away, exposing one white globe, tipped by a rosy pert nipple..

_Warmth uncurled deep inside, need thrumming in his blood, an ache in his loins. He shoved the zipper further down, exposing the top of her breast, trailing his lips across her warm skin. He felt the breath stop somewhere in her lungs. __Her smell, __like her skin, was soft and clean. A cool, refreshing __scent indicative of her seasonal__ forest__ home, so different from his own, __hardened by__ desert sand __and constant sun. __His__ hand curled in her tresses__, pulling her head back, causing her to arch her spine. __The act pushed__ her __chest __upward__, one__ nipple almost escaping the confines of the garment she wore underneath. __Her __shift__ in weight__ forced him deeper into the chair. Open mouth__ed he moved toward that tempting__ bud, __stopping to __spread __kiss__es __above __the erratic cadence that beat in her __chest. A small hand clasped__ the one __care__ssing her hip, bringing it__ down her thigh__ t__o cup her feminine center__ barely covered__ by a square of fabric._

_Her sh__orts had been the first to go, ripped from her body before his sand __secure__d the door behind them__, the white skirt soon to follow__. He almost ravaged her right there, __desperate for release from the sexual need she'd incurred, __one hand lifting a knee high against his waist, her back flat to the hard door. __Nuzzling his neck__, she'd s__ooth__ed__ his hunger__ with gentle caresses and light touches, whispering promises, things she wanted him to experience prior to the end. __ She'd coerced __him __into the large recliner, easing down to straddle hi__m__, slim thighs su__pporting her._

_Leaning forward he nibbled at the pale skin __bordering the dusty rouge of her nipple. She gasped __in breathless anticipation, eager to feel his mouth on the peak. __ She moved__ then, rocking her hips, rubbing heated core against his hand. __He heard the sound of his own breath being sucked through his teeth, erection stiff and hard, straining the buttons of his pants. __With her free hand, she slipped the shirt from her body, tossing it carelessly to the side. __Through silken fabric, he teasingly traced the outline of her nipple with his tongue, wetting the thin layer of cloth separating __her flesh from his mouth._

_"Gaara," she cried in a soft whisper. Yearning, __she squirmed above him, __hindered__ by__ the strong grip he kept on her hair. "Oh, please…"_

_He let out a groan and suckled her fervently. She cried out and clutched his __hand in hers, fingers entwining; she guided them beneath the seam of her panties. Slowly. Gently. He touched her, all __wet, and__ passionate__ly heated. Moist, slick, __unlike anything he had ever felt, more delicate than he could have possibly imagined. He__ hesitated__ at first__, afraid of tainting her, of hurting her, with his brutal hands. __But her desperate mewls, the thrust of her hips, she reveled in the feel of his fingers, pressing urgently to him._

_With a growl__, he drew back from the swelled breast__. As if understanding of his need, she s__hoved__ the cloth__ downward, exposing both__ to his pleasure.__ He angled her body, __p__ressing __roughly with the hand tangled in her locks, mouth covering__, tongue swirling, on hot heated flesh. She whimpered, eyes closing. A hand grasped the back of the chair, nails creasing the leather_

_She taught him, voice rasping, her strong hand wrapped around his wrist. What pleased her, how to caress her, to rub his thumb on the tiny nub hidden at the apex below the crown of tight curls. He wondered if it would be as pink as the hair on her head or darker, like her lashes. __He slid a single finger along the line of her __womanhood__, d__elving slightly__. F__ingers gentle as he opened h__er, a second joining the first, pumping, her movements rhythmic to his own._

_Releasing her, h__e watched her face. __C__aught in the moment, eyes closed, __tongue peeking out to rim her lips. God, he wanted her. This had to be the most__ desire...-__ she was the most desirable thing he had ever seen. And, she was here, with him. She let him __kiss__ her, caress her, she allowed him to feast on her breast. And it flamed his need even more to know she found pleasure in his touch._

_Slowly he wi__thdrew the hand from her hair, easing the strain he had forced on her. Hand splayed wide across her back, he reached for her again. Fingers still moving within her__, he blew__ hot, wet air on a swollen nipple,__ before__ gently__ rimming __it with his teeth then, biting down._

_She convulsed, entire body quaking, spasms milking his fingers inside her. She keened in __ecstasy__, sobbing his name, "Gaara!"__ He crushed her to him as __she shook, __quivering in his arms__. Her rapture burning the fire within his own body brighter and brighter, his name falling fro__m her lips about undid him. __Her feverish jerking and his answering__ response was enough abuse for the poor recliner__ which pro__mptly tipped sideways, impacting__ with the floor._

Yeah, he remembered that incident. He also remembered what she had done, once her laughter ceased, to appease his damaged pride, hence why his pants rested on the table. His forehead pressing against the mattress, he contemplated the icy, cold reality of the mess he created. This is what the frigid winter of Snow country must feel like. Legions of angry Konoha men would be beating a path to Suna's walls, demanding his blood, if she didn't destroy him first. She'd been drunk. They all had a lot to drink last night, and he had taken advantage of that. He was a monster.

Guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders, he put on the robe hanging from the bathroom door and left the main bedroom. One hand musing his hair in agitation; Gaara entered the grand room and almost choked on his tongue. Naruto stood in the kitchen, ruffling through the cabinets, wearing only a pair of boxers. _**No, no, no**_. _Not that, anything but that_! Take a deep breath. Stay calm. A quick sweep of his body revealed no pain, no soreness in orifices he identified with exit only. That didn't mean he had been the recipient.

Adopting the same steely resolve he used on stubborn council members, he made his presence known. "Naruto"

Naruto glanced back in pleasant surprise, still facing the open cabinets. "Hey man, you're finally awake."

Good ole cheerful Naruto. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for something decent to eat, I'm starving from all that activity last night."

Positive his heart stopped for a few seconds that time, Gaara could only watch as Naruto found his stash of cookies. This was one big cosmic joke. The universe was out to get him for all the pain and suffering he caused. No. No way, he hadn't been that drunk. He clearly remembered Sakura, against the door, in the recliner, on the balcony. Did they even make it to the bed other than to pass out? Never mind. Point being, there had to be a simple explanation for all this, one that didn't involve the unnecessary abuse of another's bottom.

"Naruto, what are you doing here? In my room?"

Munch, Munch. "Yuw nvitd me."

Must maintain control, if he choked him now, he would never learn the truth. Heck, Naruto might end up choking anyway as he quickly devoured the cookies, his cookies. "I invited you here, with Sakura?"

Naruto nodded, "I begged you to let us come along. We were all completely plastered." That definitely confirmed his suspicion of why she had sex with him. "Eventually you agreed," he tossed the now empty wrapper and mumbled. "Once I pried you off of Sakura."

Hell no, he did not instigate an illicit relationship with his closest friend. He doubted Sakura would have welcomed the intrusion. "You were here, with Sakura, and me, in my room?"

"Man, Gaara. I didn't know you would make a big deal. I've already acknowledged that you let me stay here with—"Naruto! Did you and (_choke) _I, do anything…with Sakura…" He broke off, "Fuck!" He really needed to kill something right about now, preferably a small mammal. A social reject, experiencing his first sexual encounter, should not have to deal with anything more complicated then who slept in the wet spot.

Naruto stared; confused, covered in crumbs. Gaara clearly disturbed by his appearance. But, last night, he said; slow on the uptake but quick to catch on, it didn't take Naruto long to process.

**'****O****h**** M****y**** G****od!****'** Naruto clasped his ears, falling to his knees. "The burning, the burning," he cried. Weeping, he rolled to his side and spun in deranged circles on the linoleum floor. All the tension in Gaara's frame evaporated as he released a held breath. _Thank God_. Based on Naruto's reaction it was obvious nothing like that happened between them.

"You're one sick fuck! Is this a by product of your early years?" "Do you sit at your desk thinking 'Let's make everyone as crazy as myself'?" Okay, that was uncalled for. Naruto was getting on his nerves. After the epiphany he had in the bedroom, he didn't need this shit. "Get up," he snarled.

"First, would you hand me a spoon? I need to gouge out the images your words put in my head." "Naruto," snapped Gaara.

He was positive he heard, 'Sadistic bastard' as his friend got up off the floor. "Hinata will never believe me when I tell her what you thought," Naruto headed into the short hallway leading to the bedroom Gaara had just exited. Hinata? Finally, in passing, he noticed the petite Hyuuga heir wrapped in blankets, dead to the world. "She also stayed the night here, with you?"

"Sheesh, is this what sex does to your brain?" Gaara growled at that comment. "You said save money and just sleep on the roll-out." "Last night, Hinata stayed, Sakura dragged you to the bedroom, and Kankuro passed out in the spare." Naruto and Hinata, out here, while Sakura, his moans and her screams, he shook his head. "Naruto, I don't want to know about your relationship."

Naruto responded with his own sarcasm, "Just a second ago, you were curious about our relationship." Only to be throttled, "Shut-up!" Gaara's hand clenched. "You will never mention that ever again." "Agreed?" It's difficult to speak with a layer of sand squeezing the air from your lungs, so Naruto acknowledged his consent with a nod. Gaara dropped him with a thud and a simple 'ass.'

Choking, rubbing his throat, Naruto questioned, "What the heck are you doing out here anyway?" "Is Sakura awake?" No response. "You left her? Alone?!"

Gaara turned away from his incriminating stare. "I doubt she'd welcome my presence when she awoke."

"You're an idiot." Probably, but Naruto wasn't done yet. "You ran; you left her to wake alone. You abandoned her, just like—"Don't say it!" It wasn't true. He was nothing like the Uchiha. He needed to explain his actions. "Naruto, I used her intoxication to my advantage. If Sakura had been sober, she would have never—Now Naruto interrupted, "As I said, you're an idiot."

They glared at each other in silence before Naruto caved. "Accusations aside, Sakura is quite capable of handling her alcohol in moderation." He snorted, "She was apprenticed to the 'boozer queen'. Foregoing another argument, he headed back to the kitchen. "Besides," Naruto paused, grinning slyly at Gaara. "She pursued you."

He pondered this as Naruto left the hall. Possible, but still, he'd like to walk away from this with his head attached. And he didn't specifically mean the one resting on his shoulders. Fully prepared for a chorus of screams or a fist to the eye, he entered the bedroom only to discover the room empty. She hadn't passed them in the hallway. The windows were locked and the balcony doors closed, her underwear hanging from the knob. She wouldn't have left without those. So, that left one last possibility.

She stood under the water in the large shower, with its glass doors and multiple heads. Her back to him, soap suds rinsing down her body as she washed her hair. Fascinated he watched the bubbles sluice down her back, over curved buttocks and slim thighs. Disoriented, he was shocked to discover a reddened bruise marking the top of her right cheek. Rough, he might have been at times, he hadn't hit her. But, Oh God, he had bitten her. Sakura was the most beautiful woman he'd ever known, and he was stabbed with jolt of desire so fierce it almost buckled his knees. Very slowly, deliberately, she glanced around. Green eyes locked with his; seductively, she smiled and asked, "Gaara, would you like to join me?"

* * *

I warned you. No angry preachers at my door because your guardian was reading over your shoulder. 

It wasn't that naughty; really, I didn't even get his clothes off.

Well this was conceived when I became overwhelmed by the scary amount of Yaoi on the internet. Me only likey in tiny doses: moonshinemustardseed, your fine.

Just poking good (not clean) fun at the unwashed masses. Plus, my warped mind demanded Gaara/Sakura smex.


End file.
